"All right, just as I expected, I got kicked out."
On her second day after crossing over, Carl woke up in a hotel in Watson District and received a call from Oliver, who had rushed back to Santo Domingo the night before.
"What happened?"
After splashing some water on her face, Carl looked at the young face in the mirror and replied.
"What else could it be? Looks like I really can't go back to Santo Domingo anymore. You could say I got kicked out. I'll be in Watson District soon. Meet me at the restaurant outside the hotel in a bit. Order first—I want a ten-Eurodollars steak."
"You really know how to eat."
Without a toothbrush or toothpaste, Carl stuck her finger into her mouth and rubbed around with water a few times, calling that brushing her teeth. After rinsing her mouth again, she decided she absolutely had to rent a proper apartment someday. This hotel was really not cutting it.
After leaving her room, Carl headed straight to the restaurant across the street from the hotel, since she had already paid for the room last night. She nearly got hit while crossing the road by a car swerving all over the place, but Carl had good mental fortitude and did not pull out her gun to give the driver a few wake-up rounds.
This was not Gotham, after all. There was no need to be so conservative.
After ordering Oliver's steak and a bowl of Chinese Cold Noodles for herself, Carl, who felt it might take longer to get used to bug meat than mercenary work, bought herself a drink before the food arrived.
Little Coco Cola had made Carl's teeth feel rough yesterday, so she switched to a different cola today. This Sirius Classic Cola looked American from the packaging alone: red-and-white stripes with stars against a blue background. It was patriotism taken a little too far.
Then Carl took a sip, and her eyes lit up. She had to admit, Sirius Cola tasted better than Little Coco Cola. Sure enough, in America, you had to drink American cola.
"Oh, you're drinking Sirius Cola. I like that one too."
While Carl was savoring the cola, Oliver had already arrived. He casually sat down beside her, bought himself a bottle of Sirius Cola from the vending machine next to the table, and started drinking. As he drank, he said, "There's a weird saying in the Sixth Street Gang: Sirius Cola is the patriotic cola. Drinking any other cola just feels wrong. Even if you aren't drinking Sirius Cola, you have to hold your other drink and salute it when you pass by."
"What kind of American master-race beverage is that?"
Carl snarked, feeling that Sirius Cola's patriotic marketing had truly succeeded. But wasn't Night City an independent city? It was not even under their jurisdiction, and they were still this patriotic? Then again, the Sixth Street Gang had been founded by American veterans, so that explained it.
"So, what's the plan today? Did you find a way to contact a fixer?"
"No."
Oliver naturally spread his hands, but he still offered an idea. "But my old man said that if you were going to do something, you should do it right instead of always giving up halfway. He suggested we check out the Afterlife bar in Heywood. People there often recruit help for jobs. Maybe we can pick up some work."
Heywood: Heywood was a district with a glaring wealth gap. The northern Parkside towers were worlds apart from the vicious, dangerous slums in the south. Yet its distinct and unmistakable charm could always draw you in from every corner. NCPD Danger Assessment: Moderate danger.
Along with that information, Carl recalled the intelligence on Heywood's gangs.
Valentinos gang: They controlled predominantly Latino neighborhoods and upheld values such as honor, justice, and brotherhood by blood, willing to pay any price to defend them. Friendship with the Valentinos gang was priceless and followed you all the way to the grave. Before getting involved with them, you had better think carefully.
The food arrived.
"I remember the Valentinos gang and the Sixth Street Gang don't get along. Is it really okay for you to go into Valentinos territory with me?"
"What problem could there be? Chew, chew. I'm not Sixth Street anymore anyway. Besides, plenty of people from the Sixth Street Gang have good relationships with Valentinos members in private. As long as things look fine on the surface, it's enough. Chew, chew. This steak is really good—juicy, and the meat's great too."
Watching Oliver talk with his mouth full, steak juices spraying everywhere, Carl instinctively leaned back. She had to say, watching him chew that juicy steak gave her the illusion of biting into a bug and having it burst in her mouth. Overall, it was a pretty intense image.
"If it's fine, then we'll go after we eat. How are we getting there, by subway?"
Carl remembered reading that Night City had a subway system.
"No need to make it that complicated. I drove here this time. All my worldly possessions are in the car."
As he spoke, Oliver pointed with his fork at a black car parked outside the restaurant window.
"A Quartz EC-L R275. My sister gave it to me for my twentieth birthday. Affordable, sturdy, and durable. Just ride with me later. I know some of the roads in Heywood."
After saying that, the talkative Oliver added, "It's a two-seater. Before this, the only person I ever let ride in it was my ex-girlfriend. You're the first person of the same sex."
"Then I suppose I should thank you."
Carl did not know much about cars from this era, so she did not tease him further. She quickly finished her cold noodles, but felt a little sick of them now. The noodles were indeed delicious because of the wheat, but counting last night's meal, she had eaten them for three meals in a row. She did not really want any more.
"Oh, speaking of thanks, you really might have to thank me."
Hearing Carl's words, Oliver suddenly remembered something. "I put two Nokota D 5 Copperhead Kinetic Assault Rifles in the trunk. That way, if we end up in a serious firefight, we'll have enough firepower to handle the job."
Nokota D 5 Copperhead: If the AK-47 was the most popular assault rifle of the twentieth century, then the Copperhead was its modern equivalent. This reliable, powerful, affordable weapon from Nokota Manufacturing was the most trustworthy support you could have at your side.
Assault rifles?
"With the recoil from an assault rifle, I might not even be able to keep the gun down."
"Then just hold it over your head and fire wherever fate takes you."
Oliver swallowed the last bite of steak.
"So, KK, shall we go?"
"Of course. Let's go, Oliver."
Before you continue